I am never late for breakfast. Or lunch or dinner or medical appointments. I am never late for anything for that matter. I was always punctual by nature, but was never quite so mindful of the clock, that is, until I became a resident of building K, room 205.
Although four years have transpired and correspondence has been mislaid, I remain optimistic that my agents are vigorously pursuing a revision to the opinion that confines me here. Meanwhile, I have adapted to a life with no control and near-constant surveillance. For example, I decided early on to suppress my normally gregarious personality and become a transparent soul in order to blend and disacknowledge myself.
Now if you think I do this for my own physical welfare, you’re partially correct. Yes, there are men here who are more sturdy and aggressive than I, but I also choose to remain distant from that element so as to not lessen my cerebral superiority by dilution and association. For despite the encumbrances, I still have work to do.
The nature of my endeavors I am not able to discuss, but suffice to say it requires all of my intellect and ability to recollect complex relationships found in the physical sciences. And I must be able to communicate exquisitely else my (future) disciples will suffer needlessly.
I apologize for being so equivocal, but I am dedicated to my task, and cannot risk revealing an iota to you, or anyone you may, even casually, mention this to, else I will join the ranks of failed men.
You see, I have learned that with a surreptitious existence, I am quite content, you might even say merry, with the knowledge that there are they and there is I.
And I am not influenced, I am not altered, I am not penetrated. For despite their best efforts, I stand alone.
The above transcript are the words conveyed to me during a brief visit with a once renowned professional man.
The above photo is the view from his only window.